


WPaRG Intermission: Building the Ark

by chelonianmobile, idrilhadhafang, MultiFanGirlWickedPony, Writearoundchic



Series: WPaRG [33]
Category: Chicken Run (2000), Disney - All Media Types, Mulan (1998), Sleeping Beauty (1959), Wallace & Gromit
Genre: Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Human Trafficking, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:15:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26776468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chelonianmobile/pseuds/chelonianmobile, https://archiveofourown.org/users/idrilhadhafang/pseuds/idrilhadhafang, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MultiFanGirlWickedPony/pseuds/MultiFanGirlWickedPony, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writearoundchic/pseuds/Writearoundchic
Summary: The animals came in one by one, to the inner circle.
Relationships: Mrs Tweedy/Victor Quartermaine
Series: WPaRG [33]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1665667
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	1. Ms. Hen

_Ms. Hen started as Mr. Rabbit’s prey._

She was in a bar, and she’d had a drink. Only one. The bartender set another in front of her. She raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t order another drink.”

“It was ordered for you, ma’am. Courtesy of the gentleman at the end of the bar.”

She looked at him and raised an eyebrow, scanning him.

Wealthy, confident, looking for a one night stand. And not exactly bad looking either.

Something about his lips… something taut and tight and trembling…

She’d always thought it was foolish, how much time people spent focusing on the _eyes_.

His hands flittered ever so slightly, but not in a way that suggested nervousness; anticipation, then.

Clearly he thought he had a chance… but… his eyes were not focused on her at all, instead they were locked on the drink in her hand.

_Clever._

She grinned, and pushed the drink back. “That’s quite alright. I’m a bit of a lightweight, I’ve had enough already.”

“Very well. I’ll tell the gentleman-”

“No need. I’ll tell him myself.”

She stood, allowing both her hips to sway and her legs to wobble slightly as she made her way over. She’d always been such a good actress… _Feign innocence, and make him think she didn’t know…_

“You know, there really was no need to send over a drink.” She bopped his nose playfully. “One look alone and I’d have been won over.”

He was surprised, but…

“Well, never hurts to be a gentleman, does it?”

Recovering quickly. He wanted her alone. Then again, so did she.

“You know,” she said, making sure to slur her words ever so slightly, “I’d love to get some fresh air.” A pause. “Join me?”

A smile… a tiger’s smile…

“Of course.”

Outside the two walked. It was a clear night and the stars were shining, but the moon was gone. It was dark, and slightly chilly. Most other women would have been scared.

She was not most women.

“So…” she said, still slurring her words slightly and leaning in. “Do you mind if I ask you something, Mr…?”

“Lord. Lord Quartermaine.”

Nobility. She liked that…

“Lord Quartermaine,” she said. “Why did you drug my drink?”

And then the lying started.

“What, I… of course I didn’t… why would-”

“Please. No need to act. I can tell you slipped something in there.” She grabbed his hand. “There’s still small traces of powder on your hand, not to mention that you kept your eyes on my _drink_. If you only meant for a one night stand, perhaps more, you’d have kept your eyes on me.”

His eyes were certainly on her now.

“I’d ask why you thought that would work,” she continued as she let go of his hand. “But it clearly _has_ worked for you before. Your confidence from earlier came from experience, and quite a bit of it.” She tapped her chin. “And that would make me wonder why there hasn’t been a scandal brought about by some poor girl or an angry father… unless you’re not exactly keeping the girls you bring home.”

“Do… do you want money? I can give you-”

She held up her hand. “I want an _in_ , Lord Quartermaine. What I want is a position in whatever insidious little organization you have going on here. That sounds more profitable than whatever sum you could offer me.”

He stared at her for a moment and then outright laughed. “Getting a position for someone targeted for merchandise? If I did that, I’d never hear the end of it.”

“Really? Well, then, I wonder what the police would make of this…”

“They’d never believe you. Or I could simply kill you before you go to them.”

“You could, but you won’t.”

“Why?”

“Three reasons; one, I obviously have useful skills and you know it. Two, we’re in a public place and you have no way either to kidnap me or outright kill me without drawing a crowd. And three… if you were targeting me, clearly you think my features are at least somewhat attractive.” She stuck out her hip. “If you allow me to take this conversation someplace private, I assure you I’ll be quite… persuasive.”

“I-I… um…”

He was flustered…

But he’d already made his decision… and she’d already made hers.


	2. Ms. Dragon

_Ms. Dragon started as merchandise._

It was an unusual way to start, without a doubt. “Ms. Dragon” hadn’t been her real name, obviously. Born Melanie Fichter, she’d been happy, for some time. Then Stefan… it hadn’t been his fault, logically, Melanie knew. When they’d gone out to that club to celebrate graduating college, they hadn’t expected someone to grab Melanie. And Stefan had tried to rescue her. God knew he’d tried.

Long enough in the dark, in the cold, your name replaced by a number… it was enough to take a toll on your sanity. And then Ms. Butterfly had offered her a chance for freedom.

Melanie had taken it.

It was a new life, adjusting to the States from Germany — where she’d been born and raised and stolen. Stefan, for reasons Melanie had never understood, didn’t even bother to look for her. He’d said he loved her, had kissed her body and called her beautiful, and then he’d simply left her to the wolves.

She had never forgiven him for that. The loneliness and the dark. The blood and hands and teeth. The feeling of being unimportant, forgotten.

(“Never believe in princes, little rose,” she’d once said, when her golden-haired charge had talked about meeting her prince in the warehouse. “There are no princes here.”)


	3. Mr. Falcon

_Mr. Falcon started as a customer._

He was a regular. Always young women, with a preference towards those of an Asian descent like himself, or Caucasian. The Ark, strictly speaking, did not care, so long as he coughed up the money.

But then he got… ideas.

“You think of more than just locking them up?” he asked them once in his semi-fluent English, after some guard or another grumbled something about an escape attempt. “You want to make an example out of ones that test your patience. It will serve as… ah, _motivation_ for others to… be on best behavior.”

“Yeah, yeah, why not just keep moving-”

“What did you have in mind?” Ms. Butterfly strolled up to the man with curiosity in her tone.

“Well, would depend on the person and what they do. If it was group effort or solo one. Gender. Age. How far they succeed. What punishment affects them most strongly. It should be a personal affair.”

“And how do you propose we do this without damaging the merchandise?”

“Well, think about what clients come for. Not damage what makes them _appealing_ , but there is plenty that can be done without spoiling them. For example, let us say we have ringleader of attempted group escape. Long time in solitary confinement would fit - coming out for work, of course. That way, they are punished, they are unharmed, and can not spread ideas to any of others. Or one can damage speaking without entirely removing tongue, so…”

Miss Butterfly paused, and then smiled. “What else do you have suggestions for, sir?”

“Opportunity is missed to only rent and sell. Have you considered filming some of your merchandise? I believe you more than double profits that way - and for that matter, I think that way you dispose of merchandise is… foolish.”

“How do you mean?”

“Simple shooting them is not practical, would you say? I understand is good snuff market out there, why not use it?”

She grinned at him. “What else, do you think?”

“I think you might also let women stay pregnant. There is market out there for pregnant women, and babies are quite valuable.”

He was right…

“You know, sir,” she said. “I believe I may have a proposal for you…”

“I am listening.”

His English improved rapidly over the years with them, and their business improved even faster.


End file.
